The hours that led up to Joost and Donnie's bloodied state were eventful.

It felt poetic to park in the empty carpark that had been the location of past meets. When there weren't the rows of sports cars filling the spaces, Joost parked over the white lines to sit horizontally. Out the front of a large warehouse that sold trade equipment during the day, the empty carpark became the space for the long-awaited meeting by night.

Tantu and Donnie stepped out with the blonde. The two weren't Joost's first choice to accompany him, but with Enzo sitting around the corner with Apson, Stuntje and Daan in the Porsche, it came down to functionality rather than comfort.

Joost could trust Stuntje to intimidate, his larger stature being a guard over his shoulder. Just because of their closeness, Joost liked having Apson with him when facing something dangerous. But in this instance, Tantu was the one with the backpack.

He had become the carrier of the orange accessory ever since taking it from Joost's apartmtent. Joost trusted the man who was more reserved than the others with the commodity of the night.

And of course, it was part of the agreement that Donnie was present. He had waited years behind bars for the moment that he could kill the man that had put him there in the first place. Every day, Donnie thought about how he would see the light leave Nathan's eyes. Whatever the opportunity brought, Donnie wanted to make sure that the Belgian never double-crossed anyone ever again.

With a hood over his head, Joost stood in front of his car with his hands in his jumper's pockets. When he pulled the gun out of the glove compartment, he thought about leaving his glasses in its place. He didn't know why, but he liked feeling the frames over the bridge of his nose. They felt like having an extra layer of protection. So, wearing what he used to be insecure about, Joost stared through the lenses at the black WRX.

The familiar Suburu sat parallel to Joost's Impreza over multiple spaces. Stepping out of the driver's and back seats, were two men that the Klein didn't recognise. They wore straight faces and black clothes. They weren't like the amateur men that Joost saw in the next lane on the motorway or in his rearview mirror. As they leaned against their respected doors, they stared back as the passenger door opened on the other side of the car.

Joost saw Donnie stiffen over his shoulder. He had to resist his own fidget and was able to settle with the clenching of his fists. Against the gun in his waistband, Joost's jumper pocket was home to the tattooed white knuckles. He had seen the Belgian while travelling over 100km/hr through car windows but it did nothing to lessen Joost's fury.

Nathan walked around the bonnet and stopped several feet in front of the WRX. With a beanie flattening his long, curly hair, the thin man held his classic, unsmiling expression.

'It's nice to see you, Joost, Tantu,' Nathan said tonelessly before his clear eyes shifted and a smirk ghosted his lips. 'Donnie.'

'Shut the fuck up.'

The venom in Donnie's voice bounced off Nathan without effect. In fact, the smirk grew on his face at the demand.

'I would ask how it's been being back in society,' Nathan continued. 'But I hear Joost has got you right back in the buisness-'

'Enough. We're not here to be belittled.'

As he plainly silenced the Belgian, Joost pulled one hand out of his hoodie pocket to stuff it into his jeans. He pulled out his pack and lighter, prolonging looking back up as he singled out one cigarette to place between his lips. Joost appreciated the restraint Donnie was displaying but it wouldn't last long. There was still an exchange that needed to be done.

'What's the money for?' Joost asked, the cigarette bobbing as he spoke. Shoving the pack back into his pocket, Joost exhaled out the corner of his mouth. He met Nathan's eye from across the carpark and did a slow blink behind his glasses.

'Where's Elke?'

Joost took the cigarette between his fingers in irritation.

'Not here.'

Nathan feigned a pout.

'Pity. I wanted to hear about how you two met.'

'And I want to hear what the money's for and where you got it.'

At it's mention, Tantu stepped forward to be in line with his friend. The backpack hung down by his side. It's weight gave an estimate of just how much money was stacked inside. Tantu had been careful to never touch any of the thousands of euros but from all the trouble that came from it, he estimated that there had to be over €200,000.

Nathan stood silently for a moment. He would never let his unsettlement from the German duo behind him be obvious to the three Dutchmen. But Joost wasn't playing along for the night to be a quick and possibly violent exchange.

He hadn't turned up with the reinforcements that Nathan thought he would. Although Apson and the others were undoubtly lingering out of sight, Nathan had dreaded that he was going to be hilariously outnumbered.

The truth was that Joost had half-expected the same. Nathan was never one to play by any spoken or unspoken rules. He would bring a gun to a children's party or a prostitute to a wedding. Joost was given the all-clear from Enzo about the abandonment of the surrounding streets and when he pulled up to carpark, he was surprised to only see Roan's black car.

'Is it to invest? Is it from drugs? Is it to frame me?' Joost listed, the options mundane in the current world. 'Is it to buy back the men you used to have? I don't recognise these two.'

Joost gestured to the goons leaning against the car. When he didn't see Nathan look back or exchange a look with them, he staggered the exhale of his smoke. Not once had Nathan nodded or acknowledged the two men behind him. This could have been because they were just another set of amateurs that Nathan would soon dispose of, but at his stiffness, Joost was certain this wasn't the case.

'Why don't we speed this up?' Nathan suggested. 'You want to give me the bag so we can all go home?'

'Acid,' Nathan paused in his address to the brunette with the backpack and his gaze shifted back to the middle. Joost narrowed his eyes, watching the men push themselves up off the WRX. The scuffs of their shoes against the road made Nathan swallow and Joost didn't fail to miss it.

'Zijn ze Belgisch?'

The Flemish flowed from Joost's tongue. Nathan did well to not react in surprise and the men on either side of him remained where they were. They understood very little Dutch, much less the Belgian dialect. Joost didn't need Nathan to speak to know the answer and the situation became a great deal clearer.

'Give me the bag, Teun,' the man said, the previous tantalising and joke gone from his voice. Tantu didn't move, waiting for Joost's affirmation. He got it in the form of a subtle rise of Joost's chin and the meeting of his blue eyes that sat in their corners. As he stepped past Joost, Tantu carried the backpack out into no man's land.

Donnie looked to Joost for the signal. Nathan stood waiting for Tantu to get halfway between the two sides. Lowering the bag to the ground, Tantu was already straightening up and giving Nathan a hard look. Still, Joost remained smoking and Donnie's fingers burned with his anger.

He couldn't take it anymore. He had waited long enough.

The men behind Nathan sensed the shift in the air and reacted with Donnie. Tantu had barely stepped away from the bag before Donnie's hand flew to the back of his jeans. Guns were pulled in unison and while Donnie aimed at Nathan, the men behind the Belgian aimed for him and his blonde companion.

Nathan jerked to the right as the bullet skimmed his bicep. He let out a cry and stumbled backwards to take refuge against the car. Blood trickled from the unserious wound and he gripped his arm in pain.

Joost fell to the floor with splitting aches in one side of his torso. His cigarette rolled away while still burning and his hand flew to his shoulder. Every breath pulled at the torn flesh and Joost tried to stop his arm from unconsciously tearing it anymore.

He heard more gunfire but couldn't bare to open his eyes and see what was happening. He couldn't think about the backpack or if Tantu had been shot while in the middle. All Joost could do was scrunch his eyes shut and wallow in the feeling of bullets in his torso.

Car doors were thrown open and closed. He could make out the screeching of tires before the roar of an engine grew to fade moments later. Joost went to roll on his side in anguish and groan, peering through a squint to see that the WRX was gone. Not only this, but the bag was gone, too.

The next thing Joost saw were a pair of legs and sneakers. He only paid attention to them when a hand came underneath him to help him sit up. He stiffled a yelp at the pull of his collarbone and bending of his middle. The last of his strength was forced to his legs as he was helped to his feet and when he pried his eyes open to see Donnie falling into the Impreza's passenger seat, Joost concluded that it was Tantu who was helping him.

'Why the fuck is that thing still here?' he was able to grunt as Tantu helped into the backseat. The orange backpack was perched next to him as if the bullets in Joost's flesh weren't enough.

'Thanks to Donnie's unnecessary shoot-out, I took it back,' Tantu said, the irritation and hint of panic evident in his voice. He rushed to shut the door and head to the driver's seat, falling into the front merely seconds later.

'I couldn't see that cunt walk away,' Donnie muttered. His breaths exhaled in heaves, his back unnaturally unarched in his seat to stretch his leg out. Blood soaked his black pants and Donnie's pained eyes flickered to the rearview where he could see Joost in the backseat.

'You were going to let him, weren't you? You son of a bitch-'

'Not now, Donnie. You've got bullets in you.'

'Joost will be lucky if he doesn't have one in his skull by the end of tonight.'

Joost didn't have the energy nor the drive to reply. With his head lolled back, the man could barely keep his eyes open. Blood covered his hand that gripped his shoulder and the bag sitting next to him stunk of trouble. They had accomplished nothing tonight except an even worse relationship with Nathan and bullet wounds that would undoubtably scar.

However, the picture had become a lot clearer for Joost, but for now, all he wanted was to fall into unconsciousness.

---

After regrouping back at the workshop, Joost and Donnie had their bullets removed. Enzo and the others were already there having been warned of the night's happenings by Tantu beforehand. On the metal table out the back of the shop, Daan was able to dig out each bit of silver with a knife and some scissors.

Donnie's had been easy but painful. The man was held down by Stuntje at his own request and had his thigh bandaged quickly. But for Joost, it took Stuntje and Enzo for Daan to be able to operate properly.

The man jerked and lunged from side to side in agony. He woke from his unconsciousness in a scream and tried to resist crying out by clenching his teeth. Enzo's call for a rag for Joost to bite down on was acknowledged by Apson, but by the time one made it to Enzo, Daan emerged from Joost's ribs with the second bullet.

Bloodied, sweating and exhausted, Joost's arms were around Tantu and Apson's shoulders as he was helped back to his car. Donnie followed, saying that he would crash at Joost's apartment tonight. Part of it was to be sure that he would wake up in the morning and the other was so that Donnie could have a word with him about tonight.

As Donnie left the carpark in Joost's car, Apson turned to Tantu with a grim expression.

'What happened?'

'I don't know... Joost was going to let Acid go with the money.'

'Why?'

'I think that's what Donnie is dying to find out.'